


Wozwald by Niru Kajitsu fanfic

by andd_ys



Category: Wozwald fanfic, miyashita yuu, niru kajitsu ft. flower, ヲズワルド 宮下遊
Genre: Angst, Gen, it's kinda depressing tbh, warning: mentions of drug consumption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:28:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27461965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andd_ys/pseuds/andd_ys
Summary: Well, I know this might look unusual, but I created this story based on this music I've already tagged and is the title os this work.  Also, I was formerly posting it on tumblr - on my blog: butimlookingforlove - and decided to continue it here since this blog turned into a naruto blog lol.This is the note I posted on my blog:(Introductory note: the events in this chronicle were inspired by the song “Wozwald” by Niru Kajitsu, and based on the theory compiled by Awaru (and btw, great job with the theory, thanks), so, the characters aren’t mine and they live in a dystopian place (even more than the place we live and know as Earth). Therefore, any similarity with reality (might be) is just coincidence. >:))So, I hope you enjoy this fanfic (feel free to listen to the song covered by Yuu Miyashita before reading. It gave me enough inspiration to write more words than I’ve ever written).





	1. Chapter 1

It all started with the amusement park. It all started for me with the amusement park.

We were three: me, Atie and Dad. Atie was an inspiration for me, he was my older brother. Our father adopted me when we were children but he only brought me to his park when I was 10 years old.  
This is an important detail to remember because Atie was basically ‘born’ in this park, he became the star here in a very short period of time. Our father owns the whole place, he creates the characters, we stage them.

Atie’s character was perfect, a super hero, people from everywhere and from any age group came to see his staging in our plays. Our audience was predominantly chlidren, but our plays suited everyone’s taste.

The moment that brought me closer to Atie at the beginning of our lives together was when his fame became uncertain. Atie and I were just brothers, but when other creators started claiming the right to use my father’s character, Atie’s character, his promising career began to crumble. From then on, I got to know how his job worked, I realized that even though Atie was honest and contagious with the joy he spreaded while staging, the system is corrupted.

For a long time I was at his side, spying on his discussions with our father. Even so, in my presence, all his brightness was still there, he was still himself, even on the verge of collapse. This is now inspiring for me and gives me a lot of sorrow to remember, however, at that time I couldn’t avoid being worried about what could happen to him and the park.

Till this day, I doubt that those creators of other production lines would have won the lawsuit. Apparently my father’s creation was too similar to the protagonist of a very famous children’s show. The fact is that, to nip the problem in the bud, our father simply deleted Atie’s character from history. He threw away his creation.

After that I didn’t see Atie for weeks, I didn’t know where to find him. I believe he was just sad and feeling down after finding an end so fast in a career that was leveraging the entire park’s reputation. This is where I enter the story.

Seamed like our father already had (or always had) a letter up his sleeve. He created a new character, as good as Atie’s. It would be our salvation, the hand that would hold the entire name of the park before it even went bankrupt.

However, we had a problem. Atie was indeed gone. News two days after the time he went missing revealed to us that he was actually dead. Reflecting about it now, I think it was on that day that things started to fade before my eyes.

All this time I’ve been just living, watching, like the young kid I still was. When Atie died, everything changed, it became different. It killed me inside, of course. But, it was only the beginning of the problem.

My father’s quick reasoning decided that I would be the ideal person to replace Atie. He anticipated our inheritance and left the entire park in my hands. Obviously, even today, my father supervises the management of the main sectors of the park (management makes a lot of money), but the rest is up to me.

👻 👻 👻 👻 👻 👻 👻 👻 👻 👻 👻 👻 👻 👻 👻 👻 👻 👻 👻 👻 👻 👻 👻 👻 👻 

I never wanted that for my life. Inspecting sectors of the park so that they are in order, organizing groups of employees, things that I used to get done as quickly as possible, giving these tasks to other people to figure out, my assistants. My main role, to act as the new and freshly born character, is too similar to Atie’s character for my taste. Luckily, I like staging it, it’s fun. I like creating the character’s new narratives and adventures so that me and the other actors can perform them.

That’s what I find myself doing right now, by the way. Writing new pages with different adventures, totally out of the context we live in - to explain it shortly, I’m writing stories with happy endings. I live near the park, in one of the dorms, along with all the employees, actresses, actors … Thankfully, the place is big, we change people with absurd frequency. The reason for this I can’t say for sure, probably because the place is not very “healthy”. And it is sometimes difficult to hide this dirt and not let it show up in our work.

Returning to my room, it seems that all the walls are full of papers. I put them on, I can’t help it. Glued to them can be found: narratives for new plays (mine and others), annoying management duty paper, photos of the oldest staff, and most importantly, news from the newspapers, testimonies, clues, everything I could find about my brother’s death.

I will probably never get over his death. Even though it doesn’t hurt to think about his memories anymore, his death still haunts me. Who killed him? It should have been the first question answered by police investigations. However, for me, it has not been answered until today. For the media, it’s also not been answered either. The problem with the media is that every topic that calls too much attention keeps on going from person to person for a very short time, now, no one remembers the guy, my brother, who used to be very famous in an amusement park in the past and suddenly died.

The case was hushed up, my father’s doing, he didn’t want that kind of fame for our park. Bribed everyone he saw in his way, made everyone keep silent. As for the investigations, they became confidential and met an end when Atie’s body was found. Suicide, was the conclusion.

It will never be suicide for me. The worst thing of all was facing my father after the funeral. His calm demeanor pissed me off. He didn’t say anything to me, but I knew he felt as if a big weight was taken out of his back, as if the death of his son meant nothing more than the death of his character. Could my father be indirectly involved in Atie’s death? Even if this train of thought makes me feel nauseous, I can’t help considering it.

However, I am unable to prove to myself that my father had anything to do with my brother’s death. No matter how hard I look for, nothing specifically indicates my suspicions. It’s just impossible, Dad loved Atie, the amusement park used to beam with happiness when he was alive, those were used to be golden years for all the participants: workers and children who came here to have fun.

Nowadays, I still cling against the final decison of the investigation. Nothing connects me to the park besides Atie’s memories, nothing makes me want to follow his path as an actor here besides the wonderful things he did. I must follow his footsteps, honor his path, seek his truth.


	2. Chapter III and IV (if you came here from tumblr)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I gotta hit u with the classic: sorry for my bad english, but..  
> honestly, sorry for any mistakes
> 
> hope u like it <3

👻 👻 👻

The park was magical. Enchanted. Everyone loved it, with that type of love that trusts things will always be the way they are and that the park will always continue to bring happiness to everyone.

Even I believed that. Again, Atie’s death destroyed that reality for me until then. His death represents the death of his character, the character that brought joy to people, and also represents the beginning of chaos.

Stuff around the park have always been managed by a lot of people, some take part in especific responsibilities, others dictate orders, some of them order those that give orders. It’s chaotic, but, I don’t mind, I accuse myself of saying that I didn’t even care about it at first. I don’t want to manage the whole park, so it is better that way if there are already people working on it. All I have to do is approve or disapprove projects. This way makes things get easier, even if it’s still stressful.

In the middle of this mess without precise and constant organization, he, the Fruits Maker, appeared. I don’t remember where I first saw him, if it was in the Dream Room (a place that you will see me talking about several times later on), or involved in bureaucracies regarding the park.

That’s right, this weird guy infiltrated through the park’s most powerful people. I always see him with the same specific clothes used for safety measures in laboratories that deal with toxic chemicals. His gas mask is part of his outfit. This weird clothing leaves no part of the body to the eye, not even his hands, which are always inside his gloves.

I didn’t know for a while what kind of influence he had in the park. I imagined he reached the top selling his drug and finding loopholes to act. I saw him frequenting the Dream Room more and more.

While he made his discreet way around the park, for at least five years things remained promising: my father rarely showed up at the park, he let his people do his work. It got to the point where he really stopped showing up. That information didn’t come to my knowledge out of my own wishes, I never saw him again, not for lack a of opportunity, I just wanted to distance myself for him. In the meantime, the administration of the place became constant (with the same group of people for more than two weeks) for longer than I expected, our work maintained it’s quality, we started to receive a greater number of visitors.

We began to appear on the newspapers again, I, more specifically, appeared more often than the others, and on the front pages. The headlines said that my job was great, I was to be congratulated for the success of the park, and for the performance of my character. The character that replaced Atie.

👻 👻 👻

On second thought, I think right at this point, when a ton of people surfaced congratulating me, that was the beginning of me starting to languish.

I can be ungrateful, some would call me that, I know, but there is no excuse, I really am ungrateful. All I felt was pain and regret for being given credit in my brother’s place. As if he could have simply disappeared and never existed, now I am the new star and I cannot feel the prestige of my work at all.

It feels like I’m being inconsistent, doesn’t it? Years ago I wanted to be able to continue with my brother’s work, now, I don’t settle for replacing him. I can guarantee you, I’m not so indecisive, I just hate what this job has become, and this park. Everything I’ve done so far has been hidden by appearances. A cheerful and always smiling character? Completely untrue. I will never do things the same way as my brother did. Now, much less.

Pretending to be in a different mood instead of my true state of mind is easy for me, I dare affirm I’m a professional. I’m not proud of that. Atie wouldn’t be proud either.

Becoming extremely pessimistic and melancholic started as a process. It is easy to blame the shock suffered by the death of my brother and the disgusting environment I work in - full of fake people who live on appearances - but a part of the blame is mine too, I could have left, looked for a better place, even if it doesn’t exist, perhaps searching it ‘pathlessly’ would’ve been better than living here, where things are already sunk.

No, maybe I’m here because me and this place look alike. Maybe I never left because I belong to it, I don’t know if I became it or succumbed to it, but right now, I’m just like it. It may all have started with my obsession over Atie’s death - he died here, the answers must be here - but I was the one who decided to stay in this hole.

Maybe I didn’t leave because everything was set for me, the park was here before me, all I had to do was sit in this comfort zone. Regardless, all that mess and wrong steps followed behind one another led me to frequent the Dream Room more and more, and that’s when I began to spend more and more time with the Fruits Maker.


End file.
